


First Come, First Served

by Mertiya, Zomburai



Series: The Mana Leak Coffee Shop [2]
Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Drunk customers, Elspeth helps out, Gen, Jace is a very long-suffering barista, LGBTQ Themes, POV First Person, Seriously though someone get Jace a goddamn break, Trans Jace, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12500312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zomburai/pseuds/Zomburai
Summary: Every Friday morning is terrible because every Thursday night, Asshole McDudebro gets drunk, doesn't sober up, and hits on me in the morning.





	First Come, First Served

**Author's Note:**

> Writing by me, art by Zomburai, plot by both.

            I am fairly sure that the worst feeling in the world is getting hit on when you’re working. Make that a double if the guy hitting on you is drunk. At 5 am on a Friday morning. They do not pay me enough for this. A full tuition waiver wouldn’t be enough for this. Maybe if it also included automatic admission to the graduate school of my choice.

            I was opening up shop—alone, because Gideon was sick, and the new barista wasn’t finished with her training yet—and actually it wasn’t bad. I don’t mind opening when it’s quiet, and the only person in the place was Sarge. I didn’t know her real name, but I called her that because she probably has military training. She stands up straight in a way most people don’t, and she always has hair done in an incredibly tight French braid. Also, she always calls me _sir_ , and I kind of love her a little bit for that.

            She also always gets a caramel macchiato, ever since I suggested it for her the first time she came in, and I’m still not sure why I did that. I’m usually a pretty scientific guy, but I really do have a weird sixth sense for people’s preferred drinks. Maybe it’s the only benefit I got from working for Starbucks.

            So Sarge was sitting in a corner, reading on her nook and sipping her macchiato, and then the door slammed open, and Alpha Dudebro swaggered in. It should be noted that I really do not like Alpha Dudebro. It should also be noted that he comes in almost every Friday morning, and he’s _already smashed_ , and I should have been expecting him, but it had been such a nice morning up until then that I wasn’t. I also might have been slightly distracted because I’d texted Ral the night before and we were supposed to meet up at a hackathon later that day. I was getting distracted imagining the possibility of asking him out for a drink later, or maybe even dinner. Or a movie. And then Dudebro had to wander in and plaster himself over the counter.

            “Hey there, gorgeous,” he said, and I took a deep breath.

            “Irish coffee?” I asked.

            “With an extra shot, yeah, babe.”

            “An extra shot of coffee?”

            “How about some whiskey?”

            Another deep breath. “We don’t serve alcohol before nine pm.” Why did I have to have this same conversation with this same Neanderthal every week? It was like he’d barely begun to walk upright.

            “Then how about you give me your number?”

            I ground my teeth. “Look, man,” I said, putting down the milk that I’d just picked up. “Are you gay?”

            He stared at me. “Uh, no?”

            “Bi? Pan, maybe?”

            “I’d be down for a threesome, if that’s what you’re asking.” He grinned and leaned forward. I leaned backward.

            “I’m a guy,” I told him desperately. “A man? Are you even attracted to men?”

            Frown that might have almost been contemplation. Possibly a thought had percolated in the vast emptiness of his brain. And then he started laughing. I froze, my stomach churning. “What’s so funny?” someone said from a very long distance away. It sounded like my voice, but I couldn’t feel my mouth moving.

            “You wanna play hard-to-get? That’s okay. You’re a cute chick, even if you like dressing up in guys’ clothes.”

            I just stared. My throat was hurting. I’d thought I was over the cough, but the stabbing pain in my chest had started again, underneath my binder, pressing down on my—on my—

            “C’mon,” he said cheerfully. “Smile. It’s a compliment.”

            “Sir?” Sarge’s voice, somewhere very far away. “Sir, are you all right? Is this man bothering you?”

            Dudebro reached towards me. I think if I could have moved, I would have been underneath the counter at that point, but everything seemed to have become very slow. Dudebro’s hand brushed against my shoulder, very lightly, and then a hand clamped down around his wrist.

            “Hey, what are you doing?” he protested. I swear at that point another hand clamped down around the back of his neck, just as if he were a puppy, and he was actually lifted off his feet. He seemed to realize that he was being manhandled at that point, because he tried to take a swing at Sarge, but she dodged easily and twisted his arm up around his back, and he yelped in pain. “Ow, _ow_ , _fucking_ _hell_ , let _go_!”

            “Come on, you’re leaving,” she told him firmly and started marching him towards the door. Halfway there, he succeeded in eeling his way out of her grip and drunkenly stepped backwards.

            “You wanna go?” he slurred.

            Sarge gave him a long, steady look. Then she peeled off her cardigan and rolled up her sleeves. Normally, her layers cover her up quite a lot; sometimes she even wears a scarf drawn tight across her head. You can still see that she carries herself straight, but you can’t really get a sense of what her body is like at all, a look I’m unfortunately pretty familiar with.

            When she rolled up her sleeves, I actually saw Dudebro go white. “Whoa, hey,” he started to say, and I thought she was just going to escort him out, but she drew her fist back and clocked him right across the jaw. He went over backward and knocked over two chairs on the way to the floor. Sarge stood there for a minute, staring down at him, then said, “I don’t like bullies,” and went over to fetch him. She picked him up, twisting his arm behind him again, frogmarched him over to the door, and threw him out by the scruff of his neck. Then she dusted off her hands and walked back over to me. “Are you all right, sir?”

            “Oh my god,” I said limply. “I think I love you.”

            She blinked at me in surprise, and then her face broke into a bright smile, almost a little mischievous, an expression I’d never seen the serious Sarge make before. “I hate to disappoint you,” she said, “but I’m not really into men.”

            I’m not sure when I started laughing, and the laughter was tinged with hysteria, but it was definitely laughter. She laughed as well; I bent forward over the counter, barely able to hold myself up. I think we were both pretty shaken, but after a minute or two, we both managed to catch our breath. She stuck her hand out. “I’m Elspeth,” she said.

            “Jace.” She had a firm grip, much firmer than my unfortunate sweaty limp-noodle. “Can I get you a drink on the house? Caramel macchiato with an extra pump of caramel?”

            “Could I get a muffin instead? I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but after that I’m not sure if I want any more caffeine.”

            “Anything for my platonic knight in shining armor. Seriously, _thank you_. Thank you so much.”

            “Of course,” Elspeth said fiercely. “You shouldn’t have to feel afraid just to—just to do your job.”

            As I dug out the muffin, I noticed that her hands were trembling slightly, but I didn’t comment on it. “Let me know if you ever need help with your computer,” I told her. “I’m pretty sure I still owe you.”

            She shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad I could help.”


End file.
